


Book Club

by Elphabuddy



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Comfort, Either tag works depending on how you read it and what you ship, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Grief, Grieving, Hurt, I’m not stopping you, Mentioned Bulimia, Nerd!Heather Duke, Reading, Reconciliation, bookworms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15984455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elphabuddy/pseuds/Elphabuddy
Summary: Heather Duke is a closet bookworm. Veronica is not.





	1. Before

On a bright Sunday afternoon in spring Veronica finds herself reading in the park near her home, tea in a canteen, sitting on a blanket beneath a tree. She’s overjoyed to finally have a day to herself. No Heathers to grovel to or Martha to apologize to for all the things she was convinced to do. She feels herself tugged further into her book before it’s ripped from her hands. She stands up, glaring at the girl in green in front of her. “What is your fucking damage, Heather?” She growls, yanking her book back.  
“Heather would have your ass for being a nerd in public. We’ve put so much work into making you presentable yet here you are in that damn scarf acting like it doesn’t matter.” Heather snarls at her.  
“Can I not have one afternoon to myself without you color coded bimbos ruining it? I enjoy reading. Give me a break for one goddamn day and stop acting like it’s the end of the world.”  
Heather’s face harden. “You think you’re the only one who enjoys reading? Sacrifices must be made to fly with the eagles Ronnie.”  
Veronica sits down on her blanket before taking a drink of tea and pats in front of her inviting Heather to sit with her. Heather crosses her arms staring down at her. “I don’t bite. Sit with me.” Veronica says calmly.  
Heather sits reluctantly. “Heather keeps you from reading, doesn’t she?” Veronica inquires.  
Heather shrugs. “I read like there’s no tomorrow at home but I don’t feel like I can for the fun of it around anyone else.” She mumbles meekly.  
Veronica looks her up and down before proceeding. “You’re angry at me for not caring that Heather could destroy me for being nerdy. You wish you could be that. Not give a fuck what she thinks and enjoy your hobbies. You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Veronica guesses. Judging by way that Heather is looking away shamefully she knows she’s pretty spot on.  
“What do you like reading?” Veronica asks. She thinks she might just like this side of this girl when her face lights up with her reply. “Most anything but I love classics. Moby Dick is fantastic. I’ve read it at least 20 times. It’s helping me recover actually. Whenever I get the urge to purge, I open it and...” She says fast and excited before her face falls and she apologizes.  
“Why are you sorry? We’ve hung out for nearly 3 months and this is the first time we’ve really connected. Sure we tolerated each other but we’re now bonding over a common interest. I promise you that I am enjoying this conversation. You aren’t annoying me, Heather.” Veronica assures the green girl.  
Heather looks down at Veronica’s book and registers what it is. “The Trial of Lizzie Borden? A bit morbid there Ronnie?” She asks, scooting closer.  
Veronica shrugs. “I’m intrigued by murder. Not in an ‘oh cool’ way but in a what pushed them to it way. Plus I want to be a lawyer so I figure reading some famous case transcripts is a good idea.” She replies.  
Heather scooted closer yet still looking at the book. “Do you want to read it with me?” Veronica asks gently gaining a nod in response.  
She pats next to her and the smaller girl settles in next to her hip to hip, resting her head against the taller girl’s arm. “Tap my knee when you’re done with the page. It might not turn the instant you do that because I’m still reading but I’ll know you’re done.” Veronica murmurs while opening the book up at the beginning.  
They remain that way for a few hours until night arrives. Veronica smirked at the other girl who was taking a drink of her tea. “Hey. It’s getting late but I’m down with this becoming a thing. Maybe you could bring Moby Dick with you next time.” The taller rebel offers.  
“Next Sunday around 1 in the afternoon?” Heather asks.  
“Next Sunday it is.”


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one year anniversary on Heather's death rolls around. Heather hopes to reconnect with her ex best friend and neighborhood nerd, Veronica, as she gets through this hard day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all wanted an update on this one. It's one of my favorite of things I've written and I hope you enjoy it continuing as much as I enjoyed finding a way to make it continue.  
> TW: Bombing, Death of friend/Grieving of a loved one, Suicide mention, ED mention, PTSD mention, Anxiety mention  
> Lotta talking, not a lotta happening.

It's been months since she's read a book for fun. She can't seem to find the motivation anymore. Then again, since she's taken the reins from Heather, she hasn't had the chance. Always having to be the leader was exhausting and she quickly saw why she was so against her reading. You need to watch your back instead of burying your head in a book. She sits on the bleachers, feigning confidence, as she watches Heather runs her cheerleading routine with her squad. She notices how fake her smile is and a twinge of guilt reverberates through her. An explosion shakes the school and Heather is dropped but manages to land semi gracefully. She can't help herself from reflexively standing to check on her. Smoke clouds the windows from outside and teachers attempt to calm the students. Kids rush to the hallways to get a better view. The glass doors have been blackened but they open moments later when Veronica trots in frazzled as all hell. Her frizzy hair pouffier than usual, covered head to toe in ash and soot, scraps across her forehead and cheek trickling blood.  
Heather McNamara gasps and runs up to her, hugging her tightly. "They said you killed yourself."  
Veronica just stands in her embrace, face buried against her neck. She doesn't speak, doesn't cry. Simply slides her arms around the cheerleader's waist limply and lets herself be held.  
"You look like hell." Heather's lips betray her and release what was meant to remain a thought.  
She is met with a cocky grin that doesn't meet her friend’s dead eyes. "Yeah? Just got back."  
Veronica slinks out of her friend's arms and takes the scrunchie from Heather's hair, banding it around her mess of untamed curls. "What are you doing?"  
"Heather my love, there's a new sheriff in town."  
She pulls her in by her blazer to give her an aggressive kiss that stains her cheek black and, before she can even have a chance to process this, Veronica follows Martha fucking Dunnstock's wheelchair.

***

They hadn't talked since Veronica took the reins but they kept everything nice. Months pass even quicker and she is alone on the anniversary of her friend's death. Not that she's trying to notice. She doesn't blame Heather for being angry at her with how she treated her. She doesn't blame Veronica for avoiding her after the petition signing incident. She blames herself. She knew better and yet she still mimicked the dead bitch that her heart hurts for to this day. It's a Sunday afternoon. Maybe, just maybe...

***

She lays out a blanket and settles in with her tattered copy of Moby Dick. She found it in her locker with multiple random parts highlighted and a note that apologized for exactly that in handwriting that she doesn’t recognize but suspects is JD’s. She sips on her thermos of warm coffee. The cool breeze sends a chill through her and she ignores it to the best of her abilities. "Again? Don't you have it memorized?"  
She looks up and Veronica is standing over her. That stupid, fucking, ratty scarf swallowing her scrawny frame. It hides her dramatic amount of weight loss slightly but it's clear that she has not been ok in a long time. She pats next to her, much like how the other girl started these meet ups. "I hoped that you'd be here." Veronica says softly, sitting on the opposite corner of the blanket.  
Heather's lips twitch imperceptibly. "Me too. I didn't want to be alone today. I mean, I'd deserve it if I was but..."  
"Why would you deserve it?"  
"You know what I did."  
Silence makes the distance between them feel further than before. She can't deny it. They both know it's true. And yet, Veronica shakes her head slowly in disbelief and disagreement. "That wasn't worth abandonment. A long conversation, yeah. You didn't deserve to be left alone. I just thought... I don't know what I thought. I probably just convinced myself that you didn't want to be friends after we... I gave you the space I thought you wanted."  
"I was blackmailed by him. He was going to spread some shit on me and I needed those signatures to keep him from sharing it." Heather sighs heavily, knowing her ex is a touchy subject.  
Veronica bites her lip, nodding before flopping on her belly towards her, her head almost level with the shorter girl's hip, and opens her book. "That's it? No yelling or fighting or defending your dead boyfriend's honor?"  
She looks up from her book. "I mean, there was a reason I dumped him and warned you to get away from him. Him blackmailing you doesn't exactly come as a shock to me considering he tried to blackmail me too. I won’t lie, I'm not happy with your treatment of Heather after Heather died or that you haven't so much as tried to apologize to her but she's said it’s between you and her so..." She shrugs, burying herself back in her story.  
Both dive into their books, losing themselves but not too far to ignore the other. The sound of pages turning and crisp leaves beneath kids feet keeps them semi grounded to the real world. Veronica rolls over, her spine leaned against Heather's outstretched leg and Heather rests her arm on the lanky girl's shoulder. "I hated her when she was alive. Like, I wished she was dead, I prayed for her to die. Now that she is dead, I miss her. Is that stupid?"  
Veronica presses herself closer to her, peeking back behind her. "Not in the slightest. She was a bitch but she was our friend. She had her moments of good in the bad. She was selfish but generous with the people she loved, stubborn but usually made her opinions after a shit ton of research to figure out what made the most sense to her, short tempered but protective of us. We can remember both sides without dishonoring her memory or whatever."  
Heather huffs softly but starts reading again. Veronica turn around, propping her head up with her hand and stares at her. "It was your turn to bring a snack." She says, a smirk slowly spreading on her lips.  
Heather grabs a bag of barbecue corn nuts from her baggy sweater's pocket. Neither say a word, staring at the red label. "It used to annoy me that she always called them BQ." Veronica breathes.  
"Oh, she knows. Er, I mean, she knew. She only started when she knew that you were English nerd. She'd purposefully mispronounce shit because you'd do this hilarious squinty thing that made it clear that you were debating speaking up but you never fucking did. She was so upset that you didn't for months. 'She's fine with me looking like an idiot!' She tried doing it to simple words to test you and you just fucking squinted and let her. She was so pissed at you for waiting so long to say anything." Heather chuckles.  
Veronica shoots up so fast she bounces, punching the air. "I knew it! I brought it up and she acted so offended that I thought that she was mispronouncing things. She insisted she was pronouncing everything correctly and told me I was wrong." She shouts to nearly the entire park.  
Heather cackles. "She was fucking with you. She knew."  
They dig into the bag and the tiny nuggets crunch loudly. "Shit, I forgot how awful these things were." Heather admits.  
Veronica laughs and nods in agreement. They still eat them regardless. The red on her wrist flashes to Heather's attention. The ever powerful scrunchie being worn as a bracelet and her heart squeezes. She wants it back, not as a sign of power over her, but as a memory of her friend. But how to ask her and make sure she understands that she's done with that power trip bullshit? Heather looks at the dimming setting and settles on a safer question. "Why haven't you left, Ronnie? You talked up your running off to college for so long, yet here you are, still miserable in Ohio."  
"You did the exact same so why didn't you?" Veronica shoots back.  
"I'm not supposed to make huge changes while I recover from my food related issues. Doc says no big changes and stability is key now and blah blah blah."  
Veronica quirks her head at that. "Recovery takes this long?"  
"It does when you relapse for 6 months straight. The suicides and football field bombing fucked me up supremely but it looks like I’m not the only fucked up one."  
She nods. "PTSD. This sounds so childish but I'm scared to go. I mean, fuck, I have panic attacks at campfires or a breakdown because someone drops something and my mind registers it as an explosion. What if that happens and I'm alone in a place I don't know?" The vulnerability in her voice is shocking to the girl who is so used to seeing her strong independence.  
"Then it happens. Veronica, I say this as a friend, you are fucking brilliant. If a panic attack cancels that out to people then they're the idiots. You deserve a good life."  
"I'm not sure I do." Veronica huffs bitterly.  
"I am. Tell you what, next semester we’ll go to the college of your choice and room together. I can keep you company and you can hold me accountable."  
Veronica looks her up and down, judging the offer. "Thought you were supposed to be stable and stay in a routine."  
"I’m so bored of this stupid routine I could blow chunks.” She says, a devilish grin on her face.  
Veronica’s lips twist upwards. “Did you just crack a joke about your eating disorder?”  
Heather shrugs, still grinning as she packs her book into her duffel. "And if I did?"  
"I'd say don't tell your therapist that joke. Mine hates me joking about bursting with excitement." Veronica chuckles.  
"I wonder why." She shoves her gently and keeps packing her bag slowly. "I'm not kidding. I want to go and the only way I'll have a chance that my therapist will tell my parents it's ok is if I have someone to hold me accountable. You don't even need to do shit. Lie to my therapist for all I care. I’ve been doing better and don’t need a babysitter like my parents seem to think. I mean, I can barely leave my house. My mom was bitching about structure in my life and all that shit the entire time I was getting ready to come here. And you'll have someone familiar so you'll be with me in a weird place. Sure, you might have a freak out every once in a while but you do that here too."  
Veronica stands and helps Heather fold her blanket. "I'll think about it, ok?"  
"Fine. Don't take too long though. Might not be here when you decide." She jokes.  
Veronica slinks behind her once she hands the blanket off to her and grabs her hair gently, running her fingers through tangles carefully. While it's not unpleasant, it unnerves Heather. "What the hell are you doing?"  
Something slips around her raven curls and she reaches back to touch it. Silky fabric under her fingertips, she pulls it out of her hair. It's the red scrunchie. "Are you sure?"  
"Well, Heather my love, high school is over and it was rightfully yours, regardless. It can't be used to hurt people anymore. Yes, I'm sure."  
"Thank you." Heather breathes softly.  
"Of course. I've been meaning to give it back now that high school is done but never had the right moment. I've been considering mailing it or sliding it through an open window of your Jeep. I'm glad it's this way."  
"Me too."  
The two start their short trek home now that it's completely dark. "Do you think this alliance would make her happy or utterly terrify her?" Heather asks, adjusts her bag on her shoulder.  
"Honestly? Both. She wanted us to get along but we'd probably make her fear that she'd lose her power." Veronica shrugs, sliding the bag from Heather's shoulder to her own.  
Heather rolls her eyes. "I can carry that."  
"You mean you can drag it. The strap is too long for your short little legs. I've got this." Veronica teases. "Jesus, what do you have in here? Rocks?"  
"Books."  
Veronica cackles. "Makes sense. We should go to Duke. That'd be funny."  
"You cannot be serious." She groans annoyed.  
"Fuck no. I want Harvard." Veronica says, poking her side as she walks her up to her door.  
“Can we do this again? Maybe like how we used to?” Heather asks as she takes her bag back.  
Veronica sucks air through her teeth and hums softly. “As much as I’d love to, this was my last full day off before a 22 day stretch. We could hang out after work sometime. Heather, Martha, and I go out for dinner on Wednesdays at 7. This time we're going to that dinner with 24/7 breakfast, Walker's. It's Heather's favorite and, well, this week hits her hard too. You can join if you want."  
"If it's so hard on her then why didn't you hang with her today?"  
She knows that she could have used more tact in her asking of that but fuck tact. Why would Veronica choose her over Heather? Why when Heather obviously needs her and she's been nothing short of a cunt to all three of them? Veronica chews on her lower lip, carefully choosing the words that she will use to reply with. "Martha didn't want you to be alone with today being what it was. Quite frankly, nor did I. She knows about the reading thing we had and knew that you might not have reacted as positively if she came instead. We planned out how to do this day together a month ago and she's with Heather. She's taking better care of her than I could have. We both have a different kind of baggage and process grief differently. She needs to ignore it and I need to acknowledge it. Currently, it's for the best that I'm not with her but Martha is. You know she still has that cute picture of you and her at summer camp with ice cream all over your faces hung up in her room, right? She's only talked about it once but she called it one of the best summer of her life. I'm babbling, sorry."  
Martha still has the very picture she allowed herself to be blackmailed to destroy. She's actually relieved to know that. The second their faces burned off of the photo, she regretted clicking the lighter on. She wished that she had simply taken the picture home and hidden it. It exists. Proof that they were friends still exists and, oddly enough, it makes her happy to know. Heather stutters in shock. By all logic, Martha should loathe her for how she's treated her. She was always too pure. It stabs even deeper to remember all the things she's done and said to her since she ended their friendship for the Heathers. She's grateful to have a chance to make it up to her. She knows that it won't be fast nor will it be easy or even possible in a worst case scenario but it'll definitely be worth it if she can. She's not sure if she's thinking about Martha or Heather anymore but she wants to fix things with both of them. She wants her friends back. "I miss both of them so much."  
"They miss you too. So what do you say? Breakfast/Dinner on Wednesday?"  
"I'd like that." Heather whispers, a hopeful smile tugging her lips up.  
"Yeah, so would I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: elphabuddy


End file.
